


fine edge

by towine (snippetcee)



Series: onwards and upwards [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (with feelings), M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5906509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snippetcee/pseuds/towine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tilt your head back," Finn says softly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fine edge

“I don’t know how you have the patience to do it so often,” Finn says, as he pulls a clean shirt on over his head. It’s one of Poe’s, the cotton gone soft and worn; another in the endless list of Poe’s clothing that Finn’s borrowed.  
  
Poe’s private refresher is humid and warm from their shower. Poe stands at the sink, shirtless except for his standard-issue sweats, slung low on his hips. He's rubbing shave cream onto his face in a thick lather, and he pauses to smile at Finn through the mirror’s reflection. “Have to,” he says. “Otherwise I look like a Wookiee within days.”  
  
Finn grins at the image. “Not exaggerating at all?”  
  
“I promise you, I’m not.” Poe grins back as he rinses his hands, then picks up his razor.  
  
Finn leans against the wall beside the sink. He likes watching Poe shave. It’s strangely therapeutic, watching him methodically swipe away the foam and reveal the smooth skin beneath. Poe’s never asked him to leave, so Finn doesn’t.  
  
“I’ve only shaved once,” Finn admits. “Everyone in the Order did it because facial hair underneath a Stormtrooper helmet is kind of impossible to tolerate. I saw people do it every morning, and I—well, I don’t really grow much. As you can tell.” Finn gestures to his own face. Poe smiles again. “So, the day I had the slightest amount of stubble going on, I tried shaving it.”  
  
“And how’d that go?”  
  
“Well…” Finn shrugs. “It’s not like there was much, anyway. I lost my only real shot at a mustache, I guess.”  
  
“ _Stars_ , not a mustache,” Poe pleads, reaching over to playfully wipe a line of foam onto Finn’s cheek as Finn laughs.  
  
Poe says, then, “Besides, you don’t have to change a thing about your face.”  
  
That makes Finn burn a little under his skin. He always does when Poe says stuff like that. Finn lifts a hand to wipe the foam away, leaving a cool sensation on his cheek. “Guess I just felt out of place sometimes,” he says, “when it felt like everyone else did it but me.”  
  
“Hey, you get a few extra minutes free time in the morning,” Poe tells him. “I’d definitely prefer that than having to do this every day.”  
  
Finn smiles a little. “It does beat looking like a Wookiee.”  
  
“Exactly,” Poe laughs. His expression turns contemplative. He’s only finished with the right side of his jaw, the rest still covered in foam. He says to Finn, “If you want more practice though, why don’t you try giving me a hand?”  
  
“What?” Finn blinks.  
  
Poe holds out the razor. “Try shaving for me.”  
  
Finn immediately thinks that would be a terrible idea. “That would be a terrible idea,” he says. “I’ve barely—I could kill you—”  
  
“You’re not going to _kill_ me,” Poe says, laughing. “You’ve got steadier hands than that.”  
  
“Poe…”  
  
“Come on.” Poe’s already putting the razor into Finn’s hand. He lifts himself up to sit on the sink’s counter, then grasps Finn’s arm and guides him to stand in front, between Poe’s parted legs.  
  
“Are… Are you sure?” Finn asks, flustered.  
  
Poe’s warm, calloused palms hold Finn’s face, angling it so their eyes meet. He smiles. “I trust you, Finn.”  
  
Finn swallows, then nods. “Okay.”  
  
Hesitantly, he begins where Poe left off, on the right side of his face. Finn’s never willed harder for his hand to stay steady as he lays the razor against Poe’s skin, and drags it through the foam, carefully, slowly. His free hand curls beneath Poe’s ear, thumb pressing against the corner of Poe’s jaw to keep him still or urge him to turn his head whichever way Finn needs him too. Poe is pliant under his touch, patient. His breath fans out warmly against Finn’s cheeks—Poe’s lips have parted, slightly. Finn tries not to stare.  
  
The scrape of the razor is the only sound filling the room, besides the occasional drip from the shower. Finn moves a little faster as he gets used to the motions, but still very slow compared to how quickly he’s seen Poe do it before. Poe doesn’t make any comment, only watches Finn intently with half-lidded eyes.  
  
“Tilt your head back,” Finn says softly, wiping the razor against a towel.  
  
Poe complies, baring his neck. It’s a vulnerable, intimate gesture. Finn moves even more carefully than before, paying extra attention to the bump of Poe’s throat as he drags the razor over it. Finn’s fingers can feel the flutter of Poe’s pulse beneath his skin, warm to the touch.  
  
After one last swipe, he’s finished. Finn takes a clean towel and wipes away the leftover foam, leaving Poe’s skin clean and, now, smooth. Their faces are very close. Finn thinks he can count each of Poe’s eyelashes, can see the way his eyes have darkened, his pupils dilated slightly.  
  
“All done,” Finn says, a little hoarsely. His hand lingers on the side of Poe’s neck, his thumb brushing against the pulse there.  
  
“Thank you, Finn,” Poe says, and kisses him.  
  
Finn melts into it, easily, pressing his body closer when Poe grasps his hips and urges him forward, his legs spreading to accommodate him. Finn slides his fingers into Poe’s hair while his other hand cradles his jaw, thumb rubbing against the curve of Poe’s cheek.  
  
It’s all heat and soft fervor, the slide of Poe’s tongue against Finn’s, his hands dragging a familiar path up the scar on Finn’s back. Finn feels like he’s glowing, warmth spreading through him from the inside out, burning like starlight.  
  
“Finn,” Poe breathes into the space between their lips. “ _Finn_.” It makes Finn shiver, hearing his name like that.  
  
The kisses gradually soften, lips catching and brushing in fleeting contact, more air than touch. They don’t move apart. Finn’s heart is racing. He presses his forehead to Poe’s, taking a moment to breathe.  
  
After a beat, Poe grasps Finn’s wrists, guides his hands up so he can touch Poe’s newly-shaven cheeks. “What do you think?” Poe asks. “You did a good job, I’d say.”  
  
“Um. Really?” Finn says. His thumb brushes over a slightly rough patch on Poe’s jaw. Clearly he’s inexperienced at this. “Well. You’re not a Wookiee, at least. I’ll do better next time.”  
  
“Next time, huh?”  
  
Finn’s face turns warm. “I mean—if you want to.”  
  
There’s Poe’s smile again—rakish and familiar and, this time, so _fond_ it makes emotion swell in Finn’s chest. Embarrassment, perhaps.  
  
Love, maybe.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> EDIT: now with [fanart](http://jackefallon.tumblr.com/post/141228529334) by the amazing jacke fallon! :D
> 
> EDIT: now available in [Hungarian](http://fanfic.hu/merengo/viewstory.php?sid=127891)!


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